


Of Dutch Martyrs and 1830's Erotica

by nikniknik



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Comedy, Complete, M/M, Masturbation, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 18:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1575416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikniknik/pseuds/nikniknik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tavros asks for a more accurate description of human mating tactics. Practical demonstrations ensue, and Dave very nearly has an awkward meltdown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Dutch Martyrs and 1830's Erotica

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the kink meme and inspired by this comic: http://slipstreamborne.tumblr.com/post/21439542963/the-day-tavros-nitram-learned-that-some-humans-can. Hope you enjoyed, writing Dave's ridiculous strung out metaphors was way too much fun.

“So uh, what’s human sex  _actually_  like.” 

Dave promptly veers off the road in Mario Kart 64, and Tavros zooms ahead to first place. Dave frowns slightly behind his glasses, and casts a look over at Tavros before turning his attention back to the screen. For all intents and purposes, Tavros looked as nonchalant as it was possible to be as an alien playing one of the best racing games of all time. Tavros takes Dave’s pause as a sign that he hadn’t properly explained himself, because he promptly launches into a further explanation.

“I mean, that first time we talked I’m pretty sure what you were describing was, uh supposed to be sexual. But…it was so weird, and involved so many extraneous food products and animal allusions it just seems so unlikely to be a factual account of a legitimate procreation process.” 

Dave takes a second to again appreciate the fact that when nervous, Tavros rambles on almost as much as he does. 

“Nah man, you should have learned by now that everything that drips from the sweet mountain spring also known as my protein chute is one hundred percent completely factual beyond any minute doubt.”

Tavros finishes the race in first place, and Dave follows him a moment later in third.

“I am almost entirely sure that you are, uh, doing that thing where you lie gratuitously because you think it’s amusing…Haha.”

“Dude that laugh was weak. My blatant falsehoods normally wrangle a school-girlesque giggle from you, what’s up?”

Dave starts selecting options for the next round of racing, but Tavros has put down his controller and is training his freaky whited out eyes right at the ex-knight’s shades. The eyes probably shouldn’t bother him after they’ve been here, like this, for so long, but it’s still sort of freaky. Dave reluctantly puts down his controller and turns to face him as well. Tavros shrugs, the minute tilt of his head exaggerated greatly by his giant orange hood ornaments.

“Well I’m just curious is all I guess. I mean, uh, even if your meat-laden explanation was a convoluted misrepresentation, human sex seems like it would probably be really different and kind of cool? I’m uh, not trying to be perverted or anything but I just would sort of want to, uh learn more about it I guess? I used to study and commune with lots of animals, so I learned a lot about odd forms of reproduction. In a strictly academic sort of sense.”

Tavros is much less casual now, twiddling his fingers together nervously, his eyebrows furrowed with stress. Dave smirks, putting his hands behind his head and stretching in what he really hopes is an ‘I’m totally relaxed and chill right now, I get alien boys asking about my biznasty every other day, bitches don’t even know’ kind of pose. 

“So we’re getting academic up in here? I can’t pretend that anything Terezi filled me in on gave me that great a picture of how you guys actually multiply. I feel like we could negotiate an information swap.”

The troll perks up at that, the worry leaking out of his expression. He gathers himself into a cross legged sitting position, hands on his knees, and eagerly looks forward to Dave. 

“Okay so uh, how does it work?”

So many wonderful jokes start flooding through Dave’s brain. Something with birds and bees, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much, storks, biblical metaphors. He has so much to choose from. But at Tavros’s almost excited puppy sort of face, Dave decides to play it straight. Or, sort of straight. 

“Well the dude sticks his penis, which I’m guessing is the same as a bulge, in the girl’s vagina, which is probably like a nook, and then he moves it around some and then he shoots his spunk in her and she ferments a baby in her love oven.”

Dave is internally fighting to keep any shred of awkwardness out of this situation. He feels like that little idiot dutch boy who was all Yeah guys, I got this. There’s an entire ocean of awkward about to come flooding in through the dam and decimate the two man population of dream bubble #6,734C, but I’ve got fucking fingers. I can keep all this shit back. Ignore the river of awkward beginning to pool around your ankles, my finger’s tight in this fucking dyke like no man’s business. This awkward flood don’t know  _shit_. 

Yeah, he’s starting to get kind of embarrassed about now. Dave coughs. Tavros’s really confused face isn’t helping. 

  
“I uh, wasn’t aware that humans practiced infantile cannibalism? And how does he use his bulge to shoot genetic material?”

  
Dave balks slightly. Okay, maybe a bulge isn’t exactly what he thought it was. A nook is probably something completely different too. Shit. 

“No, oven is just…it’s a part of the girl’s body and she grows a baby inside of her. And for the other part…okay so what exactly is a bulge?”

Now it’s Tav’s turn to doggy paddle in the rapidly rising waters of embarrassment, and he rubs the back of his neck while searching for an answer. 

“Well it’s you know, what we’ve got down there.”

He makes a weak sort of gesture at his crotch. There’s a pause that would be completely silent if it weren’t for the menu music of Mario Kart. Dave clears his throat again. 

“Alright, we may have to take this out of the purely theoretical realm if we want to make any kind of progress. I think the class is ready for show and tell.”

That little dutch boy is now firmly pressing his finger between the last two bricks of a broken down dam at the bottom of the ocean. He’ll be dead in a few minutes, and weeks later the memorial service will be touching. Tears will be shed. Tavros doesn’t seem as mortified as one might think however. He’s shifting but is definitely actively considering the idea. He stands up and his hands flit around his belt area. 

“I would most likely be uh, interested in doing something like that? I mean if that’s something that you would also, uh consider doing. I sort of assume that it would be since it was your idea. But again, your habit of gratuitous exaggerations and blatant lying leads me to think that maybe you didn’t uh, seriously mean that as a proposition. Which is also an okay thing for that to have been. A joke that is. That thing you just said was probably a joke. Uhm.”

Dave follows suit, standing up, his hands also going to the button on his jeans. 

“No man, I am being so super cereal with you right now. Lets do this.”

Dave starts stripping off his pants, and Tavros smiles slightly and does so as well. R.I.P little dutch boy. You will be missed. God, Dave hopes he’s not blushing. There’s rustling fabric, the jingle of a belt buckle, and then Dave is very purposefully staring down at his own crotch, his own boxers, and then finally, his own cock. He’s always been fairly fond of it, obviously. It’s a decent size, and he’s not worried about being emasculated by some kind of grossly over proportioned alien wang. Like not even a little, that’d be a stupid thing to worry about.

He can hear that Tavros has also stopped moving. It seems like the grace period in which he was allowed to gaze intently down at his own familiar giblets is now over and he has to man up and see what he’s up against. He swallows and looks over at Tavros’s groin. There’s…not anything there. He glances up at Tavros’s face, who is now really blushing and has one hand over his mouth. 

“Uhm Dave, I wasn’t under the impression that this was going to be a... _practical_ demonstration, nor do I know if I am fully willing to accept a solicitation of that manner.”

What?

“What? Dude, I’m not soliciting anything, this whole science class bullshit was your idea.”

“Yes, but you’re…very obviously aroused? Or I… thought so? I’m I sort of assumed since you were unsheathed…”

Dave squints at Tavros’s crotch, now noticing that there’s actually a small crease between his legs. Huh. 

“Okay, human sexytimes lesson number one: Dicks don’t sheathe, or whatever. I’m not turned on, this is just how it is. All the time.”

Tavros cringes slightly, and his legs close together a little bit, like a dude trying to protect his balls except that he doesn’t have any so that’s weird and why is he doing that?

“So it just hangs outside and touches stuff all the time? Doesn’t that hurt? I mean wearing pants must be horrible!”

“No man, it’s fine? It’s not that big a deal, at all. I mean getting hit in the crotchal region is similar to ripping out your innards with a rusty fishing hook, but besides high velocity impact it’s not a problem.”

“Oh. Huh.”

Tavros tilts his head again, relaxing slightly and shuffling over, looking at it from a different angle. He’s got a pensive sort of look on his face, and it’s clear that  _something’s_  going rapidly through his head. Dave glances back to Tavros’s groin, trying to get a better look at that crease, (for science. sexy science). To his surprise, the slit is now wider, a hint of orange-ish brown showing through the slim opening. 

“…Dude are you getting off on this?”

Tavros gives him a questioning look before glancing down at his crotch. He gasps and covers the opening with his hands, a very faint dark brown color appearing in his cheeks. 

“I. Uh, it’s just that. I mean, well the idea of being  _out_  like that all the time, and not have it be painful is a little uh, exciting, in a strange sort of way.”

He squirms on the spot, and for the first time since this conversation began Dave feels like he’s getting his footing back a little. 

“Hey, no fair, let me see. My junk’s all out and about for curious eyes, and an information exchange was the deal, no? We can’t have you backing out of a binding contract like that can we? It would go down on your record: Xeno-curious teen gawks at a fine specimen of grade A human cock, but cannot produce the goods when it is time for him to strut his stuff.”

“…Dave why did your bulge just get bigger?”

Shit. Dave looks down. He’s not even half-mast yet, but as a grower not a shower, it was more noticeable.  _Traitorous organ_. There’s not even anything here that should have set him off, he was just blathering about stupid shit, but it’s okay, it’s okay. He can just concentrate and will this away, there’s nothing sexy in this room, he just needs to think about smuppets and, yep. Near instant boner kill. Sweet. 

 

“You’re imagining things.”

Crisis averted. Or…it would be except that Tavros has dropped his hands again due to being distracted by Dave’s penile shenanigans and his slit or whatever is opened even more and  _wow_  it looks kind of like a vagina. A sepia colored vagina. Like an old west porno. With bar maids, and guns and scandalous ankles and crazy frilly corsets and stockings and giant tits and,  _fuck_.

“Dave it’s definitely getting bigger. Is something wrong?”

“No that’s, the uh. That’s how it gets 'unsheathed'. We call it getting hard.”

The air quotes means you’re getting a boner ironically. For educational purposes. It’s your patriotic duty as an American to improve postmortem, intergalactic, troll-human relations.  _No homo_. Tavros looks so interested he might as well take notes. Hey that’s a good one actually.

“Yeah, I know it’s impressive. You might wanna take some notes.”

“Hard huh? So, what else does it do?”

Dave raises an eyebrow, but hey he’s in this thing now, he might as well see it through all the way. He takes a deep breath and then gingerly wraps his hand around his dick, rubbing it slowly. He sees Tavros momentarily cringe again before his eyes go wide with interest again. 

“Well you’re supposed to stick it in a girl, and move around until you come.”

Tavros seems to get that this is a demonstration because he stays quiet, his eyes glued to where Dave’s hand is stroking his cock. It’s…sort of flattering, and Dave doesn’t really know whether he thinks that it’s hot or not, and he’d honestly rather not think about that. Instead his eyes drop back down to the area between Tavros’s legs where his old western pussy is now significantly open and sort of glistening.  _Shit_  his alien mangina is getting  _wet_  for this. 

Never before in his life had Dave experienced the feeling of WHYBONER harder than he is right now. But then something weird and distinctly phallic starts to protrude from the slit, and that’s more alarming than sexy, so Dave shuts his eyes and thinks about the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders which are legitimately the only part of any sporting event he’s ever watched. He pants and stops moving his hand so much, opting instead to just thrust into his cupped fist, finishing a few tense seconds later into his other hand. 

Brain no longer fogged by the idiot blanket that is horniness he feels distinctly shameful. Tavros apparently has testicles bigger than his horns though, because he actually reaches out and grabs Dave’s wrist, turning his hand to inspect his dirtied palm. 

“Wow, so you do that  _in_  the other person? And it’s uh, not red?”

His first question was most definitely tinged with a hint of ‘catholic schoolgirl getting introduced to kinky bondage shit that she decides she is definitely a fan of’. Wait, no stop thinking about catholic schoolgirls and bondage, bad idea. One demonstration was definitely enough. 

“Yeah, it’s not blood, or blood colored, or having anything to do with blood. And yes you do that in the girl if you want to make a baby.”

Tavros lets go of Dave’s wrist, a pensive  _hmm_  on his lips. Dave pulls up his boxers, wiping his hand on them absently before putting his pants back on. 

“Alright, your turn. Show me what yours…does.”

As soon as that comes out of his mouth Dave wonders if he actually wants to know. Honestly he doesn’t really, but he is in this to win this or whatever that constitutes in this circumstance. Tavros just took in all of human sexual reproduction with no more than a curious head tilt. Dave can handle whatever crazy shit his junk is packing. He can handle it without even being remotely phased.  _Totally_. Now with the focus on him, Tavros blushes deeply, but takes a deep breath and nods. 

“O-okay. Um, I need some kind of oil or something and uh. I need a bucket.” 

“Wait seriously?”

“Uh…yeah.”

There’s no stuttering explanation, no linguistic fumbling to express  _why_ , just a straight up ‘yes’. So he’s definitely serious then. Dave sort of thought that all that bucket stuff was just a joke, but…apparently not. Somewhere in his mind there is a robot yelling DANGER WILL ROBINSON, DANGER! ALIEN COCKS APPROACHING, ABORT MISSION. Or something like that. He’s actually not entirely sure he’s using that reference correctly but whatever. Fuck that robot, he will handle the ever living crap out of whatever Tav is packing. No, not like that shut up. 

Dave goes to the kitchen and finds a bucket and some vegetable oil, returning to hand them off to Tavros who is blushing so much by now that Dave’s pretty sure Terezi would be getting her mouth gummed shut from the taste of peanutbutter in the air. Tavros sets the bucked down between his feet, then pours some vegetable oil over his right hand. Gingerly he rubs at the tapered tip of the strange thing partially protruding from his sheath. Then he starts talking. 

“So uh, this is my bulge and as I alluded to earlier it only unsheathes when aroused, and is really very sensitive which is why touching it the way you handled yours would be really very painful and uh, not enjoyable since your fingers are dry and would likely scrape at it in a, uh decidedly non-arousing way.”

His bulge is coming further and further out, and the slit has basically ceased looking like a vagina entirely, but it’s still sort of glistening and moist, and the more Dave looks the more confused he’s getting. The tentacle like object is curling and wiggling a bit under Tavros’s fingers, so he can’t really get a good look, but something is kind of bothering him. He squints. The object is slick and tapered, all the way to the end. The tip is completely smooth.

“There’s no hole. Where does your jizz come out?”

Tavros make’s a small noise, and he shifts a little bit, grasping his crotch worm a little bit firmer and lifting it up, opening his legs a little more too.

“Oh uh, genetic material? Right where the  _hm_  bulge and nook connect.”

Dutifully ignoring that robot, Dave kneels down and gets a little closer, cautiously peering at the clusterfuck that is Tavros’s groin. With the freaky alien dick lifted out of the way, the resemblance to a vagina is sort of back. It looks small and very tight, but there’s still a slight gap. And sure enough, right where the base of the bulge is protruding there’s a little tiny hole. Tavros is breathing a bit heavier now, and after a moment Dave stands back up again, reluctantly focusing his attention back on the freaky ass tentacle thing. What Tavros is doing doesn’t really resemble stroking. It’s more like he’s having a thumb wrestling match with the thing. There’s a lot of squeezing and coiling, and the whole thing just looks really disturbing honestly. 

“Can you control that thing? I mean are you making it move like that?”

“Not uh, not exactly? I can make it stop moving with a concerted effort, but it’s definitely more on the autonomous side when it comes to, uh interacting with things in its general proximity.”

Before Dave gets a chance to ask him, Tavros cooperatively pulls away his hand, breathing steadily through his nose and brow furrowing with concentration. His crotch wiggles a lot less and then the thing just sort of hangs there limply with only the occasional frustrated twitch. He stands stiffly like that for a moment, then with a relieved exhale he brings his hand back to his crotch which eagerly starts to wrap and coil and be as fucking freaky as it can be again. It’s making these wet, slippery noises now, and from the way Tavros is biting his lip, Dave is pretty sure he’s close. His rational, masculine, heterosexual brain waves one last red flag, trying to get him to close his eyes or look away or  _something_ , but Dave has a block of wood wedged on the gas pedal of the SS Xenosexual Education, and there’s no turning back now. Do boats even have gas pedals? Whatever mixed metaphors are the best metaphors, and if anyone says differently they are the king of Douchetools. Full steam ahead, motherfucker. With a little moan, Tav comes. And comes, and comes. He doesn’t stop for several minutes, and Dave is pretty sure enough time elapsed during Tavros’s orgasm for flowers to grow on that little Dutch boy’s grave. The steady stream finally tapers off, and the last bit trickles down the side of Tavros’s leg.

The fluid itself is brownish but not as thick as semen, and it shoots practically straight down, pooling in the bucket. By the time he’s finally done there’s a good few inches collected at the bottom. Dave is indeed very glad he used a bucket. He fumbles around for a second, locating a box of tissues and handing them to Tavros, who silently takes one and wipes away the wet trail on his leg, waiting for his bulge to resheathe itself before he pulls his pants back up. 

“So, yes. That’s how trolls…tend to do that, if everything proceeds, uh normally. I hope this was as satisfactorily educational for you as your uh, demonstration was for me.”

He uses one foot to nudge the bucket away from himself, looking a little bit mortified. Dave coughs a little. 

“Yeah, consider me a fucking PhD in troll junk from now on. Dr. Tentadick! That’s me. I apply for tenure next semester, so I’m all up about showing off how much I know about alien mating practices to the board of directors.”

“…Uh, what?”

Dave considers for the first time in his life that perhaps verbal autopilot isn’t always the best strategy.

**Author's Note:**

> Original version here: http://homesmut.livejournal.com/17313.html?thread=35471777#t35471777 Has more typos and some formatting issues. Hope you enjoyed this slightly more polished version.


End file.
